


Reciprocity

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Anal Sex, Bodyswap, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Infidelity, Masturbation, Minor Armitage Hux/Kylo Ren, Minor Finn/Rey/Rose Tico, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-11
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-21 14:52:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14287314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: They'd thought their connection through the Force had been severed with Snoke's death, but Kylo and Rey soon discover that it's still there. The nature of the connection, however, has changed in a dramatic way.





	Reciprocity

**Author's Note:**

> Kylo does not rape Rey in this fic, or vice versa. Explanations of the noncon elements can be found in the end notes. Please check there if you're unsure whether or not this fic is for you.

He was asleep the first time, and so at first he thought it a dream, and then a vision. He was warm all over but especially along his chest and hips, the phantom impression of an unfamiliar body pressed against his, small hands sliding over his pecs, a knee slotting between his legs. It felt, somehow, like there was less of him, or that some of him was hidden, blossoming inward. He pushed his hips up and the thigh between his own slid against him in a way that it shouldn’t—it was so close, too close, but not close enough—as though he’d retreated into himself. But then something shifted, folded, fattened, opened, and revealed something hard and small, a tiny but powerful bud, and the moment it peeked out enough to touch the thigh, he was wracked with a full-body shudder.

Mirth, then, hands squeezing his pecs, a laugh bubbling into his mouth, and his heart was pounding and his hands were shaking. Then kisses, down his neck, across his chest, a tongue lapping at a nipple. Kisses sucked down his trembling stomach, and then into that strange, unknown place where he wasn’t himself.

There was nothing to push into the mouth but something plump and hot and wet, and it wasn’t  _into_  so much as it was  _against_. The mouth sucked along odd folds that should not exist, and it was incredible—a tongue emerged to lap at him, and lips converged to nibble, and then there was a finger, entering a hole that wasn’t there.

He gasped for breath, overwhelmed, as the finger found secret, nonexistent places inside him, as the mouth licked and sucked and kissed, as a nose pressed against the tip of everything, so close yet too far. He groaned, frustrated, because there was more, he knew there was more—and then the finger curled and the lips closed around that hard bud, and everything went white.

When he woke he had not come; his cock stood painfully out against his sleep pants and he was covered in sweat and his entire body shook with overstimulation. He went to take himself in hand but even the slightest touch was too much. He came as soon as his fingers brushed his cock, making a sticky mess in his underwear. As he continued to shudder, he reached down further, pressed a come-slick finger against the rim of his asshole…but it wasn’t the hole he’d felt before. He didn’t have that hole.

That hole wasn’t his, and neither was that bud, those folds.

~

The first time, she was flying, and it felt like a natural extension of that—adrenaline spiking, skin tingling and hot. But the greatest heat was between her legs, and her hips twitched again and again as she willed something that was not there to thrust forward, to—to  _enter_ , the way her X-wing was sluicing through the atmosphere. It was like a clenched fist, one she couldn’t relax, or rather didn’t want to—not until she had let it build to the point of exploding, plunging forward again and again, tight heat all around like she was being swallowed.

Suddenly she was on her back, and the warmth around her was moving of its own accord, sliding up, each devastatingly slow centimeter somehow tugging her away from herself. It reached the very edge of her—so very very far away—and then it was even tighter, clamping around her, taking her, and it was so good but it was so little, so distant—

She felt a broken moan on her lips, but she didn’t recognize the word that came out. It felt like a prayer. Two points of heat seared her shoulders, pressing her down, and she pushed up, and then it was back, it was all around her, she was deep inside. Tears burned at the corners of her eyes as she fought for focus—what was she doing?—and the column of hot, wet heat moved again, squeezing up the length of her, this foreign length that had never been there before—

Down and around, up and almost off, pressure at her shoulders, sweat building at her temples, teeth and tongue at her neck. She felt something soft in her fingers, soft and fine but clumped together, and she felt herself tug, and then she was moaning and someone else was moaning and everything was so tight and it felt so good, just a little more,  _fuck_ —

 _I’ll kill you_ , came a thought as sharp as a blade, and her orgasm seemed to slice her in two.

~

It happened a few more times after that, sometimes while he was sleeping, sometimes while he was meditating, sometimes while he was sitting on his throne and General Hux was kneeling before him and the whole galaxy was at his feet. The latest of the latter times, he pulled Hux to him with the Force, pushed the general’s head down onto his cock—but he couldn’t feel it, he could only feel that strange other, that open warmth that sought to envelop in a way that he never could. When Hux drew back, spluttering and coughing, he let him, because somewhere, someone was stroking gentle fingers between his legs, plunging into him, spreading his own wetness all over him.

~

She didn’t know what was happening to her, only that it kept happening. She hadn’t needed to fly since the first time and she was glad of it; that she hadn’t come crashing down to the planet’s surface seemed like the most ridiculous trick of luck, or perhaps the Force, and she didn’t want to test it again.

But it had happened in the middle of briefings, her eyes glazing over and her body shuddering. It had happened while she slept. It had happened while she ate.

And then it happened when she was with Rose and Finn.

She’d been kneeling on the bed, pleasuring Finn with her mouth while Rose pleasured her with hers, blissfully bouncing back and forth between her lovers, when suddenly there was that feeling again, that weight between her legs that was not hers, that foreign something that shouldn’t be there. It was stiff to the point of pain—it needed to  _enter_.

She felt something different this time; someone’s chest, someone’s bony collarbone pressed beneath her forearm, something hard—an ankle?—digging into her shoulder, huffs of breath at her neck. She entered again and again, angry, dissatisfied, and fingers clawed at her back and chest, and she felt a certain satisfaction; she could break him, she could do whatever she wanted.

There was, suddenly, a blade at her throat, so sharp it didn’t need to dig in to do damage—a mere glance against skin and she was bleeding. She didn’t know why, but she wanted to laugh. “Now?” she felt herself saying, and she heard,  _No. A reminder._ And then the blade was gone, replaced by lips and a lapping tongue, and she drove herself inside even harder.

When the spasms hit it was like she was pouring out of herself, spilling somewhere—into someone else. There was dark laughter at her ear as her body trembled violently.

Then she shook her head and there was Finn, stroking her forehead, and there was Rose, holding her hand.

“Rey,” Finn said, “what happened?”

She squeezed Rose’s hand, reached out to lace her fingers with Finn’s. “I don’t know,” she said.

~

He knew what it was. He’d suspected since the very first time, and it had only become more obvious with each experience. Snoke was dead, but his power remained—or the bridge he’d created was now self-sustaining. But the connection was different now. Instead of seeing one another—

“Can you feel this?” he murmured, lube-slick hand pumping up and down his hard red cock. “Rey,” he said, and shuddered. “Do you like feeling what it’s like to have my cock?”

~

She knew what it was. She couldn’t tell them, but she knew. If she told them, it would only hurt them, because they were powerless to help. And—

“Do you like this, Kylo?” she whispered, sliding her fingers down between her folds, parting them, dipping into her wetness and bringing it back up to her clit. “Do you like how this feels?”

~

He loved it. He loved the foreign sensation, so different and yet so similar to how it felt to have his cock touched. The same sort of feeling, in different places.

She loved it. She loved the strange feeling of being outside herself, of being inside someone else. The sensitive skin, so like her own, yet so different.

“I want to take you,” she told him, not knowing if he could hear.

“I want you to take me,” he told her, not realizing it was an answer.

“I want—” they said in unison, and then there they were, him in her body and her in his, him lying next to her in her bed, her lying next to him in his. They were both in two places at once, or they were everywhere, or they weren’t—but Rey crawled over her own body as Kylo, and Kylo gazed up at his own body from hers, and they had no need for words or understanding. Rey-as-Kylo slid a big hand up under her own shirt, caressed her own breast, tweaked her own nipple; Kylo-as-Rey wrapped legs around his own waist, ground up against his own swelling dick.

They fought each other’s clothes off, Rey sealing Kylo’s lips around her own nipple, Kylo gasping and arching her back. Rey busied herself exploring her own body, lavishing attention on each breast, moving down to suck kisses into her own thighs. She was quivering—Kylo in her body was quivering—and she said “Don’t be afraid, I feel it too” in his voice.

She buried her face in her own folds, Kylo’s large nose burrowing in and grazing against her clit, and Kylo gasped and clenched Rey’s thighs around his own head. Rey laughed Kylo’s laugh and pushed her knees apart, stabbing a tongue deep inside herself. She’d always wondered what this would be like—she’d tasted other women, but what would it be like to taste herself? Now she knew: it was amazing.

“I’m going to take you,” she said in Kylo’s low growl, and she grinned with his face because it was ridiculous, but her own face was slack with pleasure, lips parted, eyes wide, and she climbed back up her body, grabbed Kylo’s cock, and nudged it carefully between her pussylips.

Kylo was big, and Rey didn’t want to hurt herself, so she slicked his cock thoroughly with her own juices, rubbing the head up and down over and over between her lips. It felt so good being on this side of it, velvet folds tantalizing the cockhead; Kylo-as-Rey’s eyes were rolling back, and she could feel his pleasure glimmering at the back of her mind. She bent to suck at her own neck as she slowly pushed in.

This was not what Kylo had imagined; or rather, he’d imagined something similar, but he was the one to take, he was the one to turn Rey breathless and needy on the bed beneath him. But he could do nothing but take it, take her, take his own cock into her pussy, feel her filling him up. He shook and gasped and clutched at his own shoulders, Rey’s fingers digging into his own muscle. Their bodies didn’t matter, he thought; she would always have been able to take him like this. And, he realized, he liked that, even though he felt he shouldn’t. It was right, even though it shouldn’t be.

Rey was driving hard into him now, fast and deep, thick black hair falling into her scar-bisected face. It was strange to see himself, to see the face he’d hidden for so many years looking down on him unselfconsciously. Rey wore his face better, he thought.

And the moment he thought it, she wasn’t wearing it anymore. She wasn’t him, and he wasn’t her. It was him thrusting desperately into Rey, seeking her the way he’d sought her all this time, finally finding her.

She pushed off the bed, rolling him onto his back, settling astride him, riding him. He didn’t so much let her as she just—did it, and he could try to turn her back over but he didn’t want to. He lay panting quietly as she took what she wanted, filling herself with his dick, breasts bouncing with each downward thrust. He watched and sucked at his lip and  _felt_  her, hands going to her waist, her hands coming down to tangle in his hair. His hips jerked suddenly off the bed and he came shouting, everything going blank as shudders coursed through him. She trembled and ground down against him and then drew off, clambered up his body, and sat her swollen pussy on his face. He held her waist and tongued at her the way he’d felt her be tasted, lapped her up, sucked at her, and she shook and yanked his hair and let out a surprised-sounding moan, then collapsed over his mouth.

The strain of it became clear to them as they lay exhausted beside one another.

“I have to go,” Kylo said reluctantly, because staying would mean death.

“Me too,” Rey said.

“But before I do…” Kylo ran his tongue over his teeth, glanced away from her. “Who were you with, those times I was you?”

“Finn,” Rey said, with no shame, “and Rose.”

“The traitor,” Kylo said, and Rey rolled her eyes.

“How about you?” she asked, though Kylo suspected she knew the answer.

“Armitage.”

“Hux,” she said with a laugh. “I didn’t want to believe it.”

“He’ll do anything for me.”

Rey raised an eyebrow. “He’ll do anything to kill you,” she said. As before, there was no point in lying to her.

“Come back to me,” Kylo said. “Please. It can be like this forever.”

Rey rolled onto her side and looked at him, and he hated the pity in her eyes. It was the same way she’d looked when she’d slammed the door in his face on Crait—when he’d thought they’d never be connected again. “It can’t,” she said, “and you know it. But.” She leaned forward to press a kiss to his nose. “It can be like this sometimes.”

She smiled, and Kylo drew a shuddery breath, heart pounding. Then he blinked, and she was gone.

**Author's Note:**

> There are two elements of noncon in this fic. First, Kylo and Rey begin experiencing each other's sexual encounters. This is not something either of them desired or asked for, but both enjoy it. Second, at one point Kylo forces General Hux to give him a blow job. The two of them have a sexual relationship, but consent is not received for this particular act.


End file.
